


Abscond

by Parasiticciel



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blasphemy, Eventual Smut, Family Secrets, Gore, How Do I Tag, M/M, Mabel is an alcoholic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, is that a thing?, lots of dream alluding smut, pacifica being a good friend, past major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parasiticciel/pseuds/Parasiticciel
Summary: Dipper is the son of a priest in the small town of gravity falls. He has a lovely younger sister and an understanding and loving mother, he has everything any child in the small town would ever want. Everything but adventure, mystery and excitement. It's only natural though, being the only son of the family he must one day take over the family church so training day and night is only natural. Although on his eighteenth birthday when he finally finds a way out of his carefully planned fate, he takes it. Learning secrets about his family and who he really was. Of course, the demon wins in the end.
Relationships: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Comments: 17
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

Natural light, concrete walls, stained glass windows. The only things Dipper had known his entire life. A Cassock, a bible and an overwhelming amount of pressure had raised him. A False God kept him chained to the largest and oldest building in Gravity Falls. Situated on the cliff overlooking the cemetery and the rest of the small town the old building had been there since the very beginning, and even further before then. The largest crucifix statue stood tall at the apse of the building, dutifully overlooking the sanctuary, and that was where Dipper stood, gazing silently into the eyes of sapphire. The ceremony was tonight. Dipper would have preferred any other life, he had prayed ever since he could form a coherent thought that the God they worshipped would let him off, allow him to go on a journey, an adventure, anything. Dipper had until he was 18, he had spent 15 of those years doing as he was told and praying for salvation at night. The last 2 years were spent hiding a burning jealousy that had been consuming him. One that had lodged in his heart, today he turned 18 with his twin sister, and while he stayed behind, she would leave to live life however she wanted. His mood soured, Fuck that.

“Dipper!”

He turned and saw his sister dressed in a pink sweater and blue jeans. A large red suitcase balanced behind her, in her arms was a small tabby cat Dipper had won at a fair he was allowed to attend a week ago. Dipper had turned out to be allergic so now the kitten, named waddles, belonged to his sister. Jealousy sparked in his chest again.

“Leaving?” 

Dipper asked, straining a smile as he observed her. Mabel allowed Waddles to jump from her hold as she smiled, opening her arms for a hug. Dipper planted his feet at the altar and Mabel's smile dropped with her arms.

“You know I wish I could stay.”

Liar. Dipper knew she was glad to leave, maybe not Gravity Falls, maybe not Stanford or Stanley, but this church, he knew she was glad to leave, relieved that it was him staying, not her. He would endure this for both of them, in the meantime she could fulfill her dream in New York. Dipper turned away from Mabel, scowling at the sapphire eyes expertly laid in the statue.

“Dipper,”

There was a pleading sound in her voice that made Dipper feel guilty.

“Before I go, just one last hug?”

Mabel had climbed the stairs to the altar and was wrapping her arms around Dipper's stiff body. He didn’t move but bit the inside of his mouth hard enough to draw blood. She squeezed him once before stepping back and letting out a breathless, awkward laugh.

“Our last hug and you won’t even look at me.”

Dipper could imagine her expression and body language, he had seen her disappointed plenty of times these last few months. He could hear the click of waddle’s nails on the concrete as mabel picked her up. Then came the squeaking of the wheels on the suitcase and finally the heavy doors of the church opening and slamming closed, the echo of the empty building amplifying the sound. Dipper let out a breath, cold hands interlocking in prayer, eyes trained on the wall in front of him.

“Our father who art in heaven,   
Hallowed be thy name,”

Dipper grit his teeth before stepping away and allowing his hands to drop. He felt a scream bubbling its way up to his chest. Before the anger settled Dipper had changed into street clothes and had walked out to the woods, feet taking him to the sleepy town at the bottom of the cliff.

\--

Greasy’s Diner wasn’t the place Dipper had hoped he would end up at but the sight of familiar faces around town had deterred him from the town center. The clock on the wall caked in dust and oil read 1:20pm and Dipper wished he was like the teenagers that sat in the back corners, stupid but free. He stared down at the iced water he had ordered, nothing else seemed very appetizing and Dipper was sure he would throw up if he put anything in his mouth. Dipper hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversation the teens were having but their loud voices carried in the relatively empty diner. 

“Have you guys heard about the willow tree? I heard from my mom that the city council was thinking of bringing it down because someone else went missing near it.”

Dipper flinched, he knew of this one. A crying couple had come into the church a few days ago pleading with him to find their son. Then came Mayor Tyler to ask permission of the church to tear down the old tree. Dipper hadn’t been in the room with his Unkles but he knew by the expression on the Mayors face that they had shot down the idea of tearing down the tree, Dipper hadn’t slept well that week.

“That shit’s cursed. It’s where they hung Gravity Falls’ most infamous murderer. It’s no wonder people are disappearing around there.”

“Fake news, they never found his body dumbass, he just disappeared one day.”  
“Nonononono, The leading theory is his partner killed him there, and considering everything his family did to those kids, yikes.”

Dipper shuddered, it wasn’t exactly a taboo topic here, but the old orphanage that used to stand where the Mystery Shack is now wasn’t exactly a popular place for the locals, not when everyone knew what kinds of things were happening there. Dipper stood, his chair scraping against the old wood floor, he was headed towards the willow tree. Sanford would kill him if he found out, but possible death didn’t hold a light to possible mystery. He downed the ice water, a metallic taste sticking to the roof of his mouth before leaving.

\--

The Gnome forest was dangerous, everyone knew that, Dipper knew that especially well. When he was 6 Mabel had gotten them lost here, they had split up and Dipper had nearly died when he had accidentally stepped into gnome territory. The walk through the forest was a simple task for an hour. Then Dipper could feel the sting in his calves and the branches sliced at his arms and legs. The forest was thick around the town and he had climbed multiple wire and chicken wire fences, poorly constructed, but high and strong enough to be a nuisance. The large and drooping willow that Dipper saw was ruined by the landscape that surrounded it. Dying grass and loose earth made it seem industrial and eerie. The closer Dipper trekked to the willow the more dull, grey bark he saw. The tree, when looked at closely, had died, eons ago, however, the green healthy leaves that stayed on the tree no matter the weather told a different story. If Dipper was younger he would think it was magic.

The willow, upon closer inspection, had eyes and hands carved into the back, and Dipper absentmindedly traced them with his fingers, they made him uncomfortable and something deep inside him hurt with an intensity he could not describe. Scorch marks and a simple B+D burned into the bark pulled at the strange feeling in Dipper's chest again. He took a step back to observe the tree from further away and slipped, falling backwards into a deep, dark hole.

“Damn it”

Dipper hissed when his head met a rock at the bottom. His head spun and the sharp pain made him curl in on himself for a moment. As he sat up, black dots painted his vision and he let out a groan. Standing up was a challenge and his hands felt the cold ground for the hat that had fallen from his head and he was startled when he felt a cold object, A compass. And a completely useless one too, three separate needles, one blue and white, yellow and white and pink and white, and not a single one pointed north. The blue and yellow ones were pointing in one direction indefinitely but the pink one was moving as Dipper stayed stationary.

“What the hell?”

Dipper mumbled to himself as he closely examined the strange compass. Looking down at the ground he noticed a bundle of books. They looked old and worn, the edges of the pages beginning to yellow, the rope holding them together was frayed and Dipper was surprised it hadn’t snapped. Picking up the bundle of books and putting the compass in his vest pocket he began to climb out of the hole. He nearly fell back in when he noticed a rope dangling in front of him, a loose noose aligning itself perfectly with his head and neck. Dipper blinked in surprise and snapped his head behind him when he heard the beginnings of his name being whispered in his ear. The wind he convinced himself when he saw nothing. The noose had disappeared when he turned again. His imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper took a steadying breath. His bed sheets were a mess, tangled around his legs with a blanket lying on the floor. He could still feel the ghosts of hands bruising his thighs, wisps of gold hair slipping through his fingers.  
> Tanned skin in the sun.

Damp sheets. The two weeks that had passed since Dipper had found the books had always had Dipper waking to Damp sheets, sweat dripping off his body, lungs screaming in pain and the remnants of a constant dream. The ghosting of hands along his waist, kisses along his neck and forehead.  
The quiet whispering of names under sheets.

Dipper remembered those well. A voice filled with undeniable love for him would whisper his name as he fell asleep. The first thing he would hear in the morning and the last he would hear at night.

A violent cough ripped through his lungs and Dipper tried his best to keep them at bay, drool seeped through a closed mouth. There was a fear that had held onto Dipper. Like something sour sticking to the roof of his mouth. 

Concrete, scraped knees, bruised hips.  
Hands around his throat.

Dipper took a steadying breath. His bed sheets were a mess, tangled around his legs with a blanket lying on the floor. He could still feel the ghosts of hands bruising his thighs, wisps of gold hair slipping through his fingers.  
Tanned skin in the sun.

His dreams held a terrifying simplicity to them. Beaches on warm nights, cool ocean waves in the middle of winter.  
Concrete walls in the heat of spring.

Dipper was going to hurl.

Shaking legs carried Dipper to his closet, a glance passing over the decayed books of the forest. The willow tree had been in his dreams too; a windy summer day, orange blossoms, red roses, yellow roses,  
purple aster.

A wedding proposal for unrequited love.

Dipper worried his bottom lip and tried to fill his mind with thoughts of the coming days. The dreams made his chest tighten with a loss he had never felt while the nightmares carried a terror he could not place, like a betrayal, or a sinister lie spoken with soft eyes.  
A delicate love built on lies.

The journals had held very little in the realm of mystery. Simply the journal of a powerful man falling in love with someone he wasn’t supposed to. Dipper had at first been surprised to find that the journal was written in Latin, the phrase “I'm still alive and waiting” had been added on into the journal recently, scrawled in hurried shaky letters on almost every page. The panic was almost palpable. The second journal was written in code, two very distinct writing styles, but all random symbols pulled together, ones Dipper had never seen before. The third had a message written on the first page, the rest were empty. It was a message that didn’t make any sense to Dipper; 'F pqfii ilsb vlr, cfka jb'. It reminded Dipper of softly lit libraries, old books, late nights.  
Moans echoing off empty brick rooms. 

He shook his head, those were only dreams. The sunlit eyes enhanced by candlelight were a product of his imagination. A result of desires being buried deep. 

Dipper slipped on a large hoodie before flinging open his large window and jumping out into the chilly night. It was the only time he was thankful for the large church window in his simple bedroom. He took a few steps into the clearing beside his prison and laid in the grass. The wind blew through sweaty hair and clammy hands, The crickets of the forest chirped and Dipper heard them as if there was a swarm in his head. He stared at the sky, looking for the constellation Ursa Major, his only way to tell time. 

Fireflies, late night picnics,  
Cold winter oceans.

Dipper closed his eyes and sighed, slowly letting out a laugh. It was 2 in the morning and here he was, pretending his dreams were some kind of past life. No matter how realistic they seemed, dreams were just dreams. 

A walk, that would help him clear his head.

Dipper stretched when he got on his feet. He was tired, he could feel it in the effort he had to make when moving his arms, in the way his legs complained when he walked. He needed coffee.

\---

The walk down the gravel hill that connected the church to the town was steep. Dipper was already dreading the walk back up. The forest was lonely at night, the occasional deer and supernatural creature could usually be heard, however lately, there seemed to be none. It made Dipper tense, it made him imagine what creature could force a forest into stillness.  
It made him feel watched.

Perhaps worst of all, it forced him into remembering his nightmares. A room smelling of piss, grimy old men, watching seasons pass through barred windows.  
Chains.

“Hello”

Dipper felt the beginnings of a scream catch in his throat but calmed slightly when he recognized the man standing casually in front of him. Gideon Gleeful. 

“Funny seeing you at night father. I was sure you would be resting in lue of all the upcoming funerals.”

Dipper nearly rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed groan. The first thing you notice about Gideon was the way he walked. Confidence stuck to him like a rat in glue. Dipper wouldn’t forget all the years he had bullied many of the children in primary school, many of his friends had to move away because of his cruel treatment. Nowadays Gideon liked to think he was different. Puberty had given him height and all the steroids Dipper was sure he was taking gave him a muscular build. He was intimidating. 

“Hello Mr. Gleeful”

Dipper replied with a smile, a snarky comment slipping from his lips as he took notice of the object in Gideon's arms.

“Taking your mother for a midnight stroll I see.”

Dipper saw the smile on Gideon’s falter slightly. He didn’t feel particularly bad, his mom was a wackjob, super paranoid, but she was always his most interesting visitor when he had confessional duties. She had died a month back and Gideon’s father had disappeared the day after. They hadn’t found his body, but they had certainly found enough blood to consider him dead. Probably nourishing the body of a supernatural. 

“Yes. it’s a nice night for a walk, wouldn’t you agree?”

Dipper smiled before he started to walk again. He didn’t want to spend his night entertaining the Gleeful boy.

“Careful Father, the beast that took my father is still loose in these woods. It isn’t safe to be alone.”

Dipper's grit his teeth in annoyance, was that a threat?  
Gideon let out a laugh as he walked away.

“I’ll see you at tomorrow's funeral, poor Mrs. Mecc. first her eldest daughter and now her newborn. Quite the tragedy.”

Dipper could imagine the sly grin on his face even though he faced the other direction.  
Dick.

\--

The longer Dipper walked in silence the more frustrated he became. The once cooling wind had begun to claw at his skin. They felt like needles, and somewhere deep inside, Dipper recognized the feeling. Concrete walls and needles. He recognized the feeling from the dreams and it caused an unease that was not easily shaken away. 

The pounding in his head did little to distract him and the intensity reminded him of when he was young and hit his head, of being right on the edge, of pulsing blood pooling in his face and grinding hips.

Dipper slapped himself, what the hell was wrong with him. He groaned into his hands as he covered his face. It was still dark outside and the streets leading through the town were empty, it made the footsteps trying to keep pace behind Dipper that much more noticeable when he made a sudden change in his gait. Dipper whipped around, quickly taking in shadows, trees, buildings but no people. So, he kept walking. His brows furrowed when the footsteps started again, this time making no attempt at hiding their presence. He was being followed. Dipper turned quicker this time, catching a tall shadow move past the trees, rustling the leaves. He yelled,

“I’m right fucking here, if you want to kidnap me you have to show yourself coward!”

Dipper knew his temper was a bit much, would he ever act like this around the people of Gravity Falls? Hell no, but the thing stalking him was a weird creepo who deserved none of his respect and most of his rage. Ford would scoop his brain if he ever found out. Then wind hit his neck. Except Dipper was almost 100% sure it wasn’t wind. It had moisture, it was warm, it was going against the wind that was blowing his hair back. Most importantly, there was a voice that carried to his ears. He recognized it from the whisperings under sheets, the midnight picnics, the heavy groans bouncing off empty rooms.  
The laughter on sunny beach days.

He was losing it.  
\--

The library was one of the many buildings Dipper had a key to. Was it immoral to use it to gain access because he was bored? Maybe. Did Dipper care? No. Besides, the building was old and held nothing valuable. If Dipper hadn’t entered through the front door he could have just as easily found an open window,  
Or made one on his own.

Dipper hadn’t bothered with lights because as much as he liked to believe he was untouchable by the town, Ford and his father were a different story. Besides, the library always had crappy lighting. Dipper hadn’t brought a flashlight and didn’t have a source of light which he thought would be a problem but the large windows provided enough moonlight to light up a small section of books near the back. How that was possible, Dipper didn’t dwell on it. 

He was glad to find that the section of books wasn’t the romance section or the ‘how to tell if your spouse is cheating on you’ or even a ‘7 steps to being a happier you’ section. Dipper had read enough of those when he was 13, he didn’t need anymore books draining his remaining brain cells, besides, he had memorized all those books cover to cover a long time ago.

The book that caught Dipper's attention was a book so tattered he was afraid it would crumble before he pulled it off the shelf. The old cover was so waterlogged that the only part of the title visible was a simple ‘cipher’. The pages inside had been singed at the corners and some pages crumbled to ash between his fingers. The little information Dipper could make of the book were different ways to code sentences. At least the title made sense, it was a book of ciphers. Although, some -like the ‘ser cipher’- were missing half the page and others were missing instructions, or the entire alphabet. What was he supposed to do with a half useless book? Dipper placed it on the desk behind him regardless, just in case the rest of the books here were even more useless.

The last two rows of books were surprisingly even more useless than the first. You had some classic bible stories, more than a few copies of The Holy Bible™ and some unpopular children's books. What was Dipper expecting?

Turning to grab the old book Dipper was surprised to find it missing. In its place was a piece of paper with ink black writing that Dipper would have loved to read. Except the fact that it was a thin sheet and the genius who had written it had done so with a watery fucking marker making it impossible to do was maddening.

Dipper let out a groan of annoyance as he shredded the paper in his hands.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

He smacked his hands on his face, dragging his skin down with the force. Dipper let out a calming breath before dropping his head onto the wooden table in front of him. It hurt.

“Whoever the hell is playing games with me you can go ahead and fuck yourself”

He mumbled into the table. He was pretty sure no one could have heard him, but the breathy laugh that reminded him of cold nights and empty promises made him stiffen up in fear.  
Oh Hell no.

It didn’t matter how many laps Dipper did around the library, he wouldn’t find any trace of another person. Mostly because he was alone in the building. That much he was sure of.

Dipper didn’t leave the library until the sun rose. Ford was going to give him so much shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, second chapter. Sorry if the summary was a little misleading lol, I promise you'll get something soon, no promise as to when tho.
> 
> Also, A thought I find myself facing every time I write Dipper in the Fic is; "how problematic can I make him?" well, this is the result. I don't know why I like the idea of Dipper being one of those people who's too socially awkward to scream in scary situations but also someone who will swear and act like an absolute ass/dork seems really charming to me? IDK maybe cause I always wanted to see him portrayed like that. If it's too much let me know.


	3. A marriage proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me so much trouble. I knew my destination but how I was going to get there? Hell if I knew. I probably re-wrote this a couple hundred times. Such is life, I hope it was worth the wait. It's more of a set-up chapter, maybe that's why it gave me so much trouble.

White. White roses, white dresses. A white casket. There was so much Dipper could almost pretend he was about to host a wedding. The wailing was what kept Dipper nailed to reality. To the small hands peeking out of a white gown. Pale, cold skin and deep amber eyes hiding behind thin eyelids. Funerals were never the same with children. When the hearse had arrived Mrs. Mecc had been praying on her knees for 15 minutes. It only took two people to carry the child’s casket into the church but Dipper could tell the weight never left Mr. Mecc. Dipper had gone through the mass with a fog clouding his mind. How many times had he had to do this in the past week? The white robes and alb seemed to weigh down Dipper’s shoulders and heart. All the recent funerals were really draining him. 

That night Dipper had a dream. One of white chrysanthemums, pink carnations, marigolds and hydrangeas placed on top of a small patch of dead grass. He could see a name carved harshly onto a poorly made cross kept together with twine and nails. The closer Dipper tried to get to read the name, the more his head buzzed and his ears rung. He couldn’t count the number of times his heart skipped and pattered down to nothingness before starting again with a jolt that drove his vision into darkness.

The morning came with a bucket of cold water and a voice that was drowned in the shock and panicked fog in his mind. His sheets were soaked in ice water, Dipper shivered in his soaked sheets and boxers as he stared down his uncle leaning against the wall of his bedroom. Asshole.

“Did you need something uncle Ford?”

Dipper tried to keep his voice steady, but the cold water sticking to his hair was giving him a headache. He couldn’t see straight. 

Dipper closed his eyes and took a shaky breath as he tried his hardest to focus on the words leaving Ford’s mouth. He felt unfocused, Dizzy. Leaving the dream in such an abrupt way made it feel like someone was sitting on his chest, like the air he was taking in wasn’t enough for his body. The pressure came back just before he got enough. He felt like someone was taking away his ability to breathe. It scared Dipper. 

The warm hands that clasped onto Dipper's shoulders came without warning but were grounding once he stared into the deep brown eyes of his uncle. Dipper was reminded of the many times this had happened before. Of the times Ford would sit with him when he was younger. When Dipper had been scolded by his father, when Dipper had nearly died. When they had buried his Uncle Stan.

“Breathe Dipper,”

It took almost half an hour for Dipper to regain a semblance of calm in his mind. When he did Ford stepped away from him before checking his watch.

“11:30, your father has been waiting for over an hour now Dipper.”

The words nearly made him spiral into an uncontrollable panic, there were a million worries and questions getting stuck in his throat and Dipper felt a sudden urge to vomit. A sharp voice calling his name was the only thing keeping him together.

“Dipper, there is a guest waiting with your father,”

Ford, who had been rummaging through Dipper’s meagre closet, had laid out an outfit on the back of his desk chair before throwing a towel over Dipper’s head.

“Go take a shower before getting dressed. We’ll be in your father’s study. Try not to be too long.”

The door closing caused Dipper to go into overdrive. His feet soaked the hardwood floor as he rushed to tear off his wet sheets and open his window to allow air to circulate. He nearly slipped when he ran to grab the towel that had fallen off his body in his rush. He didn’t bother putting on a robe before heading to the shower down the hall. No one here would be surprised to see him half-naked anyway. 

The fifteen minutes it took for Dipper to get ready was fifteen minutes too long and sent his anxiety sky-high as he stood in front of the door to his father’s study. The quiet voices of conversation made Dipper feel like he was intruding, that’s what he used to justify standing outside the door for a minute or two before giving a light knock to announce his presence, entering the room before he lost his nerve. 

Dipper remembered the moments in his life when his father’s study would bring him a sense of peace and security. Of the times his father would read to him in the dead of night to get him to sleep, when his mother would find him reading old scriptures or sleeping over books of Latin he couldn’t understand. That all ended when the fights started, fights Dipper was sure he was never meant to hear, fights that were his fault. Dipper hadn’t remembered the last time he had seen his Father smile. Maybe that was why his breath caught when he looked at his father’s face to find a smile instead of a scowl. 

The Northwest family.

The smile on his father’s face was all the confirmation Dipper needed to determine who was on the couch opposite his father. The Northwest family had been a part of the church’s history for a long time and if there were children born in the same year, they would be raised together. Mrs. Priscilla Northwest had been his father’s childhood friend. Dipper often wondered if his father would have been happier marrying Priscilla instead of his mother. 

Dipper gave a kind smile as he said his greetings. He moved to stand behind the sofa his father was sitting in before he took notice of the blonde girl sitting to Mr. Northwest’s side. 

Pacifica.

Dipper took notice of her dress and hair, A deep purple dress with red and blue accents around the high collar and snug waist. Her hair was done up high and upon closer inspection, Dipper noticed that she was wearing makeup. He furrowed his brows before looking down at his father. Dipper hadn’t noticed the silence in the room until his eyes met the blue-green of his fathers. How long had he been staring up at him?

“How very nice of you to join us Dipper, Pacifica has been waiting an eternity to see you.”

Dipper’s head shot up to look at Pacifica again but her gaze was down, head hanging and hands balled up in silk fabric. Dipper was missing something, he didn’t like the unease of the unknown. It sank in his stomach like a rock. What the fuck was going on?

Dipper turned to meet Mr. Nathaniel Northwest’s scrutinizing gaze. Dipper could feel the room melt away as he hyper-focused on the family in front of him. 

“I apologize for making everyone wait on my behalf. May I ask why everyone is gathered here today?”

The question Dipper knew came from him, but it was like he was a spectator in his own body. He felt like he couldn’t recognize his own voice. 

His father stood up as he reached out a hand for Pacifica to grab. She stood with hesitance, and when her gaze lifted and momentarily caught Dipper’s, he noticed how tired she looked. Dipper felt Ford give him a small push towards his father and Pacifica, he didn’t appreciate being moved from his spot and begrudgingly took a step forward after quickly giving Ford a sharp glare. 

“Pacifica is my daughter. I’m sure you remember her, you two used to play quite a bit when you were younger. I’m sure you’ll treat her well.”

What?

Dipper stood frozen, he hadn’t noticed Mrs. Northwest move to stand beside Pacifica. He was having a hard time processing the words everyone was saying. He was still very confused.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand what everyone is talking about.”

Dipper could see Pacifica visibly tense when he spoke. It was her father that spoke from his spot on the sofa.

“After many long and tedious discussions, everyone has come to the decision of marriage between our two children.”

Dipper wanted to scream out who had given his permission, but he stood frozen staring at Pacifica. Had they given her no choice as well.

“We hope you’ll live a very happy and fulfilling life together.”

\--

Dipper wasn’t worried about where Pacifica was. Once their parents had left them alone in his father's study he proceeded to have an internal breakdown on one of the sofas. 

“This whole situation is bullshit”

Dipper hadn’t meant for the statement to be anything more than a whisper but by the time he had realized the volume was more a half scream, he froze. Pacifica was already staring at him with wide eyes.

“The Dipper I knew would never dream of using such language.”

Dipper was fucked. Pacifica would tell his father and then who knew what would happen. Dipper would never speak again. He groaned into his hands. Pacificas breathless laugh brought him out of his self-pity. He looked at her. He was sure the look on his face was something ridiculous.

“It’s good to know that you haven’t become a mindless church puppet.”

Maybe Dipper wasn’t as fucked as he thought. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t have much of a choice with our situation.” 

Dipper looked at Pacifica sympathetically, he knew the answer to his question, but he also didn’t know how to start a conversation.

“Dipper, I’m a Northwest. When have I ever had free will?”

Dipper laughed. He remembered why he liked Pacifica so much as a child. They were in the same situation, it was why Dipper used to feel so safe in their friendship.

“How’s Mabel?”

Dipper’s smile faded quickly at the mention of his sister. Of course, she wanted to know about his sister.

“I think you’d know more about her considering how close you two were.”

The atmosphere turned awkward. Dipper watched as Pacifica turned towards the window, he could see her worrying her bottom lip.

“Yeah. They were never really happy with how close we were.”

There was a loaded silence that came between them that Dipper could recognize but not understand.

“You were never very happy about how close we were either.”

Dipper frowned. Feelings he had kept in a box at the back of his mind bubbling back up in a lump that sat in his throat. He took a deep breath, picking at his nails in an attempt to keep his composure.

“You were my only friend Pacifica.”

He kept his head down but he could see Pacifica turning to look at him. He could practically feel the judgment radiating off her. He hoped it was just his anxiety playing off his own feelings.

“We played every goddamn day. We would get into trouble together and then figure out how to blame it on some random person we met that day. “

Dipper could feel the lump in his throat grow, his head was muddled with thoughts and he raised his voice in order to hear what he was saying.

“And then one day you just stopped coming around. I didn’t know where you went and no one would tell me anything. Then I find out that you had been sneaking off to hang out with Mabel instead of me? Do you know how that made me feel? Was I just not good enough for you?”

There was a wave of anger that passed through Dipper. The longer he talked, the more he felt like shit. He wasn’t the type to talk about all the shitty feelings he locked up.

“I tried. I really fucking tried to be friends with you. I would visit you and you would be gone. I would find you in town and you would just fucking ignore me because you were with my sister.”

Dipper wasn’t sure how he had gained the confidence to look Pacifica in the eyes. He could see the confusion in the way her eyebrows furrowed and her frown deepened when they locked eyes.

“Dipper, were you the one that told my parents?”

The smile on Pacifica’s face was so sickeningly fake Dipper felt sick just looking at it. It made his blood boil.

“So what if it was me? I wanted to get back at you for leaving me alone like that! I didn’t think your parents would punish you the way they did and I’m sorry about that. But Pacifica I would be lying if I said I regret what I did.”

Pacifica stared at Dipper for a moment, taking a deep breath before throwing a book at Dipper's head.

“You’re a real asshole Dipper, I hope you know that.”

Despite the violent action, Dipper could see a small smile on Pacifica’s lips. A genuine one, it reminded him of warm summer days, scraped knees and sweat. It reminded him of happiness. 

“Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

Dipper's tone was sarcastic. He smiled and his chest felt lighter, he had a feeling Pacifica had already known who told his parents, he would ask her later, when his head didn’t hurt as much as it did. That book was heavy. When he picked it up to examine Pacifica spoke.

“A present. I hope you still like a good mystery. It’s a book on ciphers.”

Dipper flipped the pages open, it was an old book, some of the pages were burned and some had been torn out but there was still so much to learn. He smiled,

“I guess you were my best friend for a reason.”

Pacifica snorted,

“I was your only friend Dipper.”

She made her way to the door, stopping before stepping out into the hallway.

“Just so you know, I have no intention of marrying you,”

She smiled

“You’re not really my type Dipper.”

There was a relief that washed over Dipper when she spoke. At least they were on the same page. 


	4. Chapter 4

April 7th was when the first body was found. A real mess. It was the first time Dipper had seen Sheriff Blubs so scared. Dipper had always known that the Law enforcement in Gravity Falls was disgustingly underachieving but he had always liked to believe that if crime really did occur, they would be ready. The body lying in front of him told a different story. When Dipper had woken up at 5 in the morning and had been told not to eat breakfast he should have listened. He could taste the mixture of peanut butter and strawberry jam crawling its way back up his throat. The burning sensation of bile wasn’t a pleasant addition. From what Dipper could gather Rosanna DeLisle had died from blood loss. Whether the cause was the blunt force trauma that made her skull feel like coarse sand in places or the fact that her heart was missing along with one of her lungs he didn’t know. It was times like these Dipper had a hard time believing the great deity above was a good guy.

“The toxicology came back. Gamma hydroxybutyric acid was found in her system, a crazy high amount.”

Wendy. Every time Dipper heard her voice it reminded him of warm summer nights spent breaking in and out of old buildings, old crushes, the burn of whiskey going down his throat. He hadn’t seen her in years. Not since Ford found him totally wasted wandering through the forest in boxers at 2 in the morning at the age of 16. Dipper couldn’t take off his shirt in front of people after his father found out.

“What does that mean?”

The high pitched heavily accented voice of Deputy Durland’s voice had always been something Dipper could barely tolerate. He found it to be incredibly grating and he quietly scowled when he spoke.

“GHB is a neurotransmitter and a psychoactive drug. It causes a myriad of symptoms that would have made it easy to relocate her. Forcefully or otherwise.”

Wendy tapped her pen against her clipboard as her eyes scanned the autopsy report. Dipper looked down at Rosanna, the cuts running up her inner thighs and the burns covering her from the waist down. Dipper knew that Wendy would have to consider doing a rape kit. He hoped she found nothing. He closed his eyes and after a stabilizing breath, looked up to meet Wendy’s. The bright white lights of the room made her brown eyes flicker with a fire Dipper couldn’t begin to decipher.

“How has Reginald taken the news?” 

Dipper found the question slipping from his mouth as he remembered the summer he played witness at their wedding. He knew Reginald to be a good guy, hardworking and loving. Dipper didn’t want to think about the pregnancy they announced to him three months ago. He had always wished them happiness, Dipper couldn’t begin to imagine how he was feeling. 

“Missing. He’s our prime suspect.”

Dipper’s head snapped to meet the serious expression of Sheriff Blubs, his chest swelling with a wave of anger he struggled to keep caged in his throat. It made his voice lower, less kind.

“With all due respect Sheriff Blubs, Reginald wouldn’t do something like this.”

Dipper had seen the Sheriff confident many times before. However, the level of confidence oozing from his stance and tone, about something so serious, was unfounded. He could tell that the sheriff hadn’t heard a word he said. Dipper had forgotten how prideful the Sheriff was.

“Father, your opinion isn’t important in this matter. If you have any information you have a civic duty to notify us. Failure to do so will result in criminal prosecution.”

A scream was threatening to claw its way from Dipper’s throat, he felt the urge to drop a boulder on him. He knew he was glaring, but the anger caused a fog in his head that made him narrow-minded. The sheriff and Deputy said some words to Wendy that Dipper couldn’t hear before leaving. Dipper hoped they got hit by a bus on the way back.

Dipper turned to meet Wendy’s eyes,

“You have to find evidence to prove Reginald didn’t do shit.”

Wendy gave him a look halfway through pity and silent resignation.

“Dipper, do you know how many murders we’ve had in this town in the last 100 years?”

Wendy was taping her pen again. She took a deep breath.

“You’re looking at the only case in 100 goddamn years. The equipment to gather forensic data doesn’t exist in this shitty town. I think it might be best if you detach yourself from this one. I’ll talk to Ford for you.”

Dipper bit his lip, his head hanging low. It wasn’t fucking fair. He pushed himself through the door leading outside. Wendy didn’t bother trying to follow.

\-- 

When Dipper stormed out of Wendy’s office he could still see the mid-afternoon sun. When he finally realized that the sun wasn’t poking through the canopy of trees Dipper grew slightly worried. When, after walking for an additional hour Dipper couldn’t recognize anything he came across, he panicked. All the work he had been scheduled to do in the evening passed through his mind. Wasn’t Pacifica going to stop by today?

“Fuuuuuck”

Dipper sat on the ground, leaning against a tree. He huffed as he ran his hands through his hair. If he survived the next few hours and made it home his father was going to kill him. His legs were cramping from walking through harsh terrain for hours and he could feel the pang of hunger. The wind had slowly began to pick up, and without the warmth of the sun, Dipper thanked himself for deciding to wear a sweater. He pulled up the hood and stuck his hands in his pocket. He could feel cold metal brushing against his fingertips. Dipper had brought the compass on a hunch, a cold feeling that settled in his stomach that became more pronounced the longer he didn’t have the gadget with him.

The blue arrow had been glowing dimly for the last four days. Dipper had stopped trying to decipher what each arrow pointed to when he found that the blue one always pointed to him. When he had made that revelation a paranoia that made him see shadows in the night and feel eyes on him at all times had set in, one that was deep and endless. 

Dipper pulled the compass out of his pocket and took a deep breath before analyzing the gold object. There was no dial or orienting arrows, he had nothing to tell him where he was going. It was part of the reason Dipper never gathered the courage to follow one of the other arrows. He was afraid of being lost, of a feeling he couldn’t describe that sat heavy in his throat whenever he thought of taking that first step.

Dipper blamed it on being lost, on having nothing to lose, but when he took the first step in the direction of the yellow arrow something in his chest sparked to life with a sensation of electrocution and dulled to a warmth that Dipper could only describe as happiness. Naps in a field on a sunny day, late-night reading during a thunderstorm. 

First Loves.

An hour and a half into his walk Dipper hadn’t expected to begin to recognize where he was, or the dread that the place brought. Gnome Forest. Wandering around here was already bad enough during the middle of the day, at night? He was going to die. Dipper’s eyes scanned the trees every step he took, he could feel eyes on him and Dipper pushed it down, convincing himself that it was only a manifestation of his paranoia, but that crumbled when a branch snapped to his right. Dipper froze, he knew he should dive for cover, find a place to hide, hollow trees or large bushes but his heartbeat was drowning his thoughts and his body felt like lead. He remembered the summer Wendy had convinced him to jump off a cliff into a lake, he quickly learned he wasn’t a good drunk swimmer. At least in that moment of near-death, he hadn’t been so terrified, Dipper thought he wouldn’t be scared of death when it came for him, now he wished he had a bottle of tequila to drown the fear of his impending doom. Death wouldn’t be so bad drunk.

A voice, small and high in pitch was what finally set him in motion. He ran like the devil was on his heels. He imagined all the possible horrors and used it to push himself forward. If he could reach the willow tree clearing up ahead, he would be fine, exhausted, and sweaty but alive. He tried to ignore the scrambling and snapping of twigs behind him, he knew if he turned around now he would come face-to-face with the thing that always came after a gnome sighting. He would turn around when he reached the clearing. 

Dipper ignored the sudden darkness that overtook him, he knew it was the shadow of the monster looming over him, it sent his heart into overdrive, he didn’t know if he was breathing but he felt lightheaded, he tried to ignore the rush of air that he felt on his back, he knew it was that things long fingers causing it, any slower and he wouldn’t be leaving the forest. Dipper recalled the words his father had told him at his uncle Stan’s funeral, ‘from dust we are born, to dust we return.’ He never did get to say goodbye before they cremated him and for a moment Dipper entertained the thought of dying if only to see his uncle again.

When Dipper took his first step into the clearing he collapsed, quickly scooting further in until he felt safe and turned to look at the forest. Nothing.

A laugh rippled through Dipper, there was nothing. Nothing was chasing him, there was no danger, he landed on his back and allowed the laugh to shake his body, somewhere deep inside he knew there was something, but if Dipper pretended- He shook his head.

He felt like a lunatic, a sweaty, exhausted lunatic. 

Dipper pulled the compass from his pocket and stared at the yellow arrow, everything seemed to lead back to the old willow tree. He stared at the night sky above him, the moon loomed above him, thin and dull, was it midnight? Maybe, Dipper didn’t care, he pushed hard against the soft soil beneath him and slowly rose to his feet. He could feel his bones creak and his muscles protested as he walked towards the large tree. Dipper wasn’t sure if it was the different atmosphere of the night that made the old tree look sturdy and whimsical, he was reminded of his dreams the past month, of a man with hair spun of gold and skin loved by the sun.

There were burns and carvings Dipper hadn’t noticed before. He traced carvings of words, words that made something in his soul scream out in pain, old prayers used to condemn people to an eternity of aimless wandering, mantras used to rip apart souls, old words to contain the damned. Old burns marked places where ropes once hung and where shackles once dug into its bark. A sombre feeling settled low in Dipper’s heart and when he found his slim fingers tracing a name burned deep into the bark Dipper felt overwhelming despair. Simple and comforting was the name and Dipper could feel himself holding it on the tip of his tongue. When it passed his lips there was a warmth that lingered, something that reminded him of a lover’s soft kiss. 

It drained him. Every time Dipper spoke the name he could feel himself growing more and more exhausted. He didn’t know when he had taken the decision to lay down next to the large tree. The ground was cold and uncomfortable but his limbs relaxed and pleaded for sleep. Dipper looked at the tree. 

Who was Bill Cipher?

Dipper could feel exhaustion taking hold of him. He could feel a faint warmness that slowly engulfed him, Dipper wasn’t sure why his surroundings had taken on a dim, light blue but the comfort brought by the calm colour was enough to allow him to ignore it. He stared at the sky as his eyes drew closed. Had the moon been red before?

\--

Mabel had known from the beginning that life wasn’t easy. The morning sun that poured in through the window made her hangover 100 times worse. The sweet drink that she was sipping on wasn’t doing it for her this morning and she considered adding a splash of whiskey or rum. A dry laugh left her lips as she glared at the sun, only a month into her job and she already felt she couldn’t do it sober. 

“There’s no way he would keep anything good here.”

She stood from the kitchen table and made her way over to the living room, An authoritative voice spoke from the T.V. Mabel had never really been a fan of the news, or the news reporter Sandra Jimenez. Mabel had met her once, she was stuck up and rude, but maybe that was because Mabel had had a few drinks too many. 

**_“-In other news, numerous reports of a strange forest fire burning in Gravity Falls’ Gnome forest have been reported. The fire, which was blue in colour and strange in nature, burned only one tree from 3:00 early this morning to 6:00 am. Although investigations have been launched, no one knows the origins. More on this story at a later time.”_ **

Weird, but not weird enough to stop her from waking up the old man sleeping on the old yellow recliner in the middle of the room. The first few days Mabel had tried waking him up nicely, but she quickly learned he was a heavy sleeper, and that meant more drastic measures. Mabel grabbed the remote off the skeleton head side table and turned the T.V volume all the way to max. The old man startled awake, white T-shirt stained in last night’s dinner and blue boxers stained in ketchup and soda. Mabel turned off the T.V and let the ringing in her ears subside before she spoke up.

“What time do the tourists get in today?”

He looked at the clock hanging low, straining to see the small numbers without his glasses.

“You should already be in the gift shop. Bastards like to come in early on Wednesdays”

It was Thursday but Mabel didn’t bother reminding him and simply nodded before turning to leave. His gravelly voice spoke up again when she reached the threshold to the hallway.

“There’s beer in the fridge if you want any.”

Mabel looked back at him and let out a laugh, he wouldn’t be happy to know she had downed half his stash last night.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell a recovering alcoholic to drink.”

He shrugged his shoulders before turning to head up the stairs.

“Forcing you to stop never did any good.”

Mabel smiled before leaving out the front door. The bright sun agitated her headache and put her on edge. She thought about Dipper, and Ford, and her mom and dad. Mabel thought about Pacifica the most. It was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, it's been a minute since I updated, sorry. LOL, my Dumbass thought that being quarantined would force me to write, especially since I really want to, but my procrastinating habits are biting me in the ass right now. In other news, I've gotten back into the bands I used to listen to in my emo phase. I might not have had fashion sense but my music taste was bomb. I wish I could just put all my thoughts into words, would make my life sooo much easier. Hope you liked this chapter, next one is where shit starts to go down. Just to let you know, tags will be added as major things are revealed. Whoops


	5. Chapter 5

Gideon Gleeful had a loud mind. A mind that, ever since he was young, swirled with voices and opinions not his own. Gideon had a brilliant mind, one that kept him up for days on end and that he felt he would never understand. Gideon had a mind that would never allow for the understanding of others, that would never allow for friends or lovers. A mind that kept him in a solitude so deep he knew he wouldn’t escape in his lifetime. 

He had learned at an early age that life wasn’t kind to people that didn’t fit in. The abilities he had been blessed with as a child never awed the other children as he expected and Gideon’s mind was nothing if not quick to anger.

The bullies were hateful but they never stayed, obsessed with power and hungry for perfection, Gideon knew his father was his greatest liability.

The day Gideon first met the pines twins they had only been a few weeks old. At 5 years old he hadn’t fully understood why the family living in the giant castle-like house overlooking the town had been so important, or why his father insisted he never upset them. When the twins celebrated their fourth birthday, Gideon understood a fraction of what his father had been trying to tell him. The family exuded confidence and pride, but Gideon could see what others couldn’t. 

Standing beside their father were two proud siblings, well dressed and with impeccable manners. The family looked the very definition of perfect, everything his father wanted and then some. The family demanded respect and awe with a single look and when he looked into the honey-brown eyes of the twins Gideon shivered. There was looming darkness that clung to both siblings and the more Gideon looked the more he felt only pity for them. They must have been born with the worst luck.

By the time the two had turned 15, some rumours circulated between the young adults and teens of Gravity Falls, some that Gideon hadn’t believed until he saw. Sneaking out to drink and get high with Wendy and her gang, breaking and entering, trespassing, parties. Gideon experienced how much Mabel fooled around first-hand and watched Dipper slowly became more daring, testing boundary after boundary with no regard to the people he stepped on along the way. Those nights Gideon would watch the twins with a certain envy, a want, he couldn’t place.

April 8th, when Gideon turned on the early morning news to hear about Dipper Pines being found unconscious and unresponsive in Gnome forest Gideon thought about the many times’ alcohol had brought the young twin to the ledges of bridges or the old railroads on UFO hill. Gideon thought about the probability the boy had attempted suicide. It wasn’t zero.

Gideon sat on his living room sofa and simply stared at the wall. The room was dark, only dimly lit by a strand of sunlight that poked through a crack where his curtains met. Gideon thought better in the dark, somehow he felt safer, usually, he didn’t mind, but today, as he stared at the wall opposite him, in an empty corner loomed a darkness that was different than the rest of the room. Gideon allowed the thought of his death to consume him for only a moment before he gathered the courage to look ahead. 

Gideon had a loud mind, but for once, it was silent.

\---

There was something in the dull droning of the room that scared her. The rhythmic beeping of the machines and the high pitched tone that had made its home in her head. Many times she had watched him struggle to pull through high fevers caused by infected wounds, many times she had watched him struggle out of bed after days of sickness. She couldn’t remember how many times she sat and merely observed as life passed by. Married at 19 pregnant at 20. She could say with total confidence that her kids were her greatest mistake and her greatest joy and there was something about seeing her son enveloped in the sterile atmosphere of a sickbay that made her chest tight with worry. Brown curls sticky with sweat clung to a pale face flushed red with fever, his condition was bad, his constitution had always been bad, however, the tube shoved down his throat made her remember times long past. Made her remember Dipper wasn’t going to pull through with a simple week of bed rest and heavy medication. It was the times she saw her son like this she had to stop and wonder if a God existed at all. 4 days and counting, endless nights filled with nothing but prayer and incessant gospel hymns sounding from the prayer hall. The townspeople pretended to care about her son, almost as much as she did, but they would only ever be half as good. She looked at him, chest rising and falling and she suddenly had the inexplicable urge to press down on his throat, the life in him was so fragile. She looked to her hands before leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. She should probably head back to her room. 

—-

“Hey, if you fall asleep here you’ll catch a cold”

The sun was warm, there was a cool breeze that passed through the grass that made the hill a perfect place for an afternoon nap. Dipper swatted away the hand that tried to wake him up.

“The sun is warm, feels nice, sleep”

There was a hand on his cheek, cool and soft, hands the opposite of his own, he opened his eyes only momentarily and quickly groaned when the harsh sun forced them shut again. There was a snicker from the person above him, a laugh that was small and not well known to its owner, one that Dipper was slowly starting to hear more often. He smiled before reaching out aimlessly to touch soft hair, instead meeting with another hand that quickly fit and wrapped around his.

"The sun and green earth suits you,"

Dipper opened his eyes to meet ones not his own, sparkling and lovely and filled with specks of what Dipper could only describe as little pieces of the universe. He lifted his head only slightly off the damp earth before catching lips, a little chapped and dry, but slightly fuller than his own and smiled into the kiss. It was quick and sweet, and when they broke apart Dipper laughed as he pulled their foreheads to touch.

"If we weren't so easy to spot I would lay you open and let you scream my name, the earth and sun would suit you the best then."

Dipper blushed, there was still a small part of him that lit in shame when words of that nature were whispered in his ear. He grabbed the hand that supported the weight of the boy on top of him and tugged, hard. There was a moment of heavy weight on his chest before he rolled over and there was a quick, playful shove at his chest.

“Rude”

There was a laugh, Dipper loved it most when he laughed, full-bodied and deep, and heavenly all at the same time. He was beside him, Golden hair, long enough to tangle with the wind, hazel eyes that shined golden with the sun and a smile that made his chest feel tight. Dipper reached out his hand and felt soft smooth skin under his fingertips. He smiled before closing his eyes again, arms wrapping around a body only slightly bigger than his own. 

The sun was high, there was a nice breeze, his father was away and Bill was beside him. He took a breath,

“It’s a perfect day”

—-

There was a pressure, a stinging sensation of suffocation mixed with a cold air gently filling his lungs. Dipper's attempts to take in breaths were met with panic as an alarm went off in the distance. There were all at once far too many people in the room, too many voices and far too much noise and movement. Once the tube began to scrape the back of his throat Dipper was able to focus on trying not to gag. His first gasp of air was cold and burned the back of his throat with stabs of ice. He coughed but his dry throat only ached more. Once he had calmed down he was finally able to focus on a steady hand lightly gripping his shoulder. He saw blond hair, long and tangle-free and then their eyes met. Oh,

“Pacifica?”

His voice was hoarse, he could barely hear it and raspy air was a majority of what came out. Dipper couldn’t help the small feeling of disappointment that built in his chest. Although Dipper knew how impossible, when he saw the long blond hair he had hoped it would be the boy from his dreams. He absentmindedly reached out to grab her hair, it was soft, shiny, it wasn’t as thick as his and although it was a vibrant blond now that he had a comparison Dipper couldn’t help but notice that it could be clearer. Pacifica’s hands found their way to his cheeks, they were cold, a welcome feeling that made him feel safe. Their foreheads pressed together and Dipper closed his eyes, he could feel her breath and the slight shaking of her hands. 

“You absolute fucking moron”

He could hear her voice break and the warm drops of tears on his cheeks but only smiled and let out a huff of air. He couldn’t begin to imagine what he looked like, mostly bones and draped fabric. He closed his eyes and fell into another deep sleep, the exhaustion that lead down to his bones mitigated in the moments of unconsciousness. 

—

When Mabel heard the news of her brother’s trip into the conscious world she truly wanted to feel relieved. The only thing she did when her uncle Stanley informed her was shrug her shoulders. Deep down Mabel had hoped he wouldn’t wake, had wanted so badly for him to only sleep and keep dreaming, her reasoning lied in the white envelope with messily fancy, utterly unnecessarily beautiful handwriting she would recognize anywhere. 

‘You are cordially invited to miss Pacifica Northwest’s and Dipper Pines engagement party’

Even the thought of the engagement party made a cold weight sit at the bottom of her stomach, she had shut herself in her room for hours when the letter arrived, crying and throwing pillows at the far wall of her bedroom. When Mabel received the news that her brother had been found unconscious in the middle of gnome forest she couldn’t help the small glimmer of hope that rose in her chest, because if her brother was unconscious she wouldn’t have to live watching them walk through life together. It was selfish, it was wrong, it was a horrible prayer to make night after night after years of praying to no God. 

She leaned against the old desk next to the entrance to her uncles sham shack of mysteries and watched as an old couple meandered through merchandise held together with crazy glue and string, one she had put together 2 nights ago and put up as a joke. It had cost her 12 cents to put together and would cost them 5 dollars to buy. When they finally walked to the register, the overly expensive gift in hand Mabel truly wanted to tell them to pick something else, maybe make up an excuse to offer them a discount but the way they talked about the upcoming engagement party held by the northwest family grated on her nerves to no end.

She smiled as they talked to her about the engagement, about how lovely they had heard the northwest bride was and how mysterious and well mannered her fiancé is. Mabel wanted to laugh, her brother; well mannered and mysterious? When they were in the midst of their teenage years, back when she still knew her brother like the back of her hand, they were brats on their best days and absolute nightmares on their worst. And Pacifica, she was her own form of trouble, beautiful and perfect, prim and proper and an absolute terror in her own right. And together, absolutely unstoppable. 

She let the old couple walk out of the gift shop with her 5 dollar arts and crafts project before closing the shop early and heading outside to look at the sky. All pinks, reds and oranges following the setting sun as the dark hazy blue of night blanketed the woods outside the shack. She could feel a headache coming and the familiar dull pounding behind her eyes stretching to the back of her head made her feel nauseous. She grabbed a shitty, cheap beer from the cooler Stan kept outside and opened it, listening to the sound of the crisp liquid. She thought about downing it, thought about the six other cans she saw in the cooler and then thought about Pacifica, she dumped the liquid out on the grass, watching it slowly absorb into the ground. Mabel tossed the can into the woods before turning to walk into the house, maybe Stan had Tylenol?

—

Pacifica sat on a chair in the dark and cold room of Dipper pines, too far from his bed to touch but close enough where she could still see the rise and fall of his chest as his lungs filled with air. The doctor that had come to check up on him assured her that it was normal for Dipper to have fallen asleep so soon after waking up, to allow him rest for the next week and to keep him away from overly strenuous activities. 

Pacifica stared at his brown curls and remarked at how long his eyelashes were, nearly as long as Mabel’s. Her eyes moved to the door on her right, tall and made of heavy durable wood, the door leading to the hall of the church, the hall Dipper's father had passed through only hours before. Despite the doctors pleading, their engagement party was still scheduled 3 days from now, far too soon to allow Dipper any sort of recovery. She closed her eyes and listened for movement outside the door, only a moment later she was scooting her chair closer to Dipper's bed, grabbing his hand and mumbling through a prayer she had learned when young, she wasn’t religious, didn’t believe that even if there existed a God he would care about her measly prayer but for now, in this moment she was sure she would do anything if it meant Dipper would open his eyes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya, sorry this took so long. I hope you find it to be an enjoyable chapter, finding motivation seems to be getting quite hard recently but I will do my best to finish this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fic, let me know if you want more :)


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